The Affectionate Drunk
by not.the.man.with.the.plan
Summary: Who knew Sam Winchester was an affectionate drunk? Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"Okay, he's all yours." Dean said, dropping the younger Winchester on the chair in their twin room.

"What? Where the hell do you think you're going?" You said, jumping up from your seat on the bed. Dean grabbed the key you had carelessly left on the table by your laptop.

"I'm sleeping in your room. In peace." He answered, tossing your key in the air.

"Like hell you are!" You say, moving to snatch the key.

"I dealt with him last time, it's your turn." Dean said, lifting the key well out of your reach.

"He's your brother!" You argue.

"You're the one who lo-mmrf" He tried to say before you put your hand over his mouth.

You look over at Sam to make sure he hadn't heard, but he was too busy laughing at his own shoe. You breathe a sigh of relief. You turn glaring at Dean who's smirking at you.

"You're the one who got him drunk!" You whisper-yelled at him.

Dean let out a sigh, "Well there's only one way to settle this."

You roll your eyes before raising your hand for rock, paper, scissors; which Dean wins.

"Ha!" Dean shouts, grabbing his bag. "Have fun!" You continue to glare as he shuts the door.

Damn him, he knew how you felt about Sam! He'd picked up on it about three months ago and hasn't let you live it down since… And now he pulls this little stunt.

The problem wasn't with helping Sam, no, you'd help him in a heartbeat. It was that when Sam got drunk he got friendly… very friendly. Yes, Sam Winchester was an affectionate drunk, and that meant hugs, touches, and kisses. Being pulled onto his lap to be cuddled wasn't so bad, it was the way he stroked your hair or the way he nuzzled your ear as he spoke that broke you. You had dreamed that Sam would do that sober so many times that it hurt, but no, he barely even looks at you when he hasn't been drinking.

Dean is usually your hero when Sam is like this, knowing how uncomfortable it makes you… so why has he left you now? You sigh, knowing that staring at the door isn't going to help anyone. You turn to look at the object of your affection to see him struggling to remove his shoe and giggling. You crack a smile.

"Come on Sammy, let's get you to bed." You state in an almost matronly tone as you help him to remove his shoe. Sam snorts at you, his face neutral.

"You're bossy!" You look at him with the classic 'bitchface #12'. "And short." He adds, laughing again.

You shake your head at him, rubbing your temple to try and numb the headache that will surely follow.

"Well Samsquatch, everyone is short compared to you." You say as you remove his other shoe, before holding your hands out to help him stand. He smiles up at you, taking your hands and pulling you down onto his lap, locking his arms around you. Sitting on his lap, every breath he exhaled tickled your neck.

'Remind me to kill Dean tomorrow.' You think as he pulls your impossibly closer, sniffing your hair. You freeze, that's new… You hear him mumble something along the lines of "Mmmm, smells nice." Before he began to kiss your neck.

You tried your hardest to wiggle away from him but he had his arms clamped around you tightly. You closed your eyes, getting completely lost in the moment. It was when you felt a bulge grow against your hip that your eyes snapped open and you came to your senses.

"Okay, that's enough of that!" You say, more to yourself than to Sam. You tear his arms from around you, which is harder than it sounds… Even totally wasted Sam is a stupidly strong guy. You turned to see Sammy sulking, you rolled your eyes, still trying to shake the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Oh no, puppy eyes are not working here Sam Winchester. Up, changed, bed! In that order mister!"

He looked down before raising his arms for you to pull him up, and you almost fell for it, stopping just before reaching him when you saw his sulking face had turned to a smirk. You laughed, shaking your head, "Come on Sammy, its getting late. Bed!"


	2. Chapter 2

Dropping his arms, he pushed himself off the armchair, stumbling to stand. He steadied himself before beginning an argument with his jacket. Sighing in defeat, he looks at you pitifully. "Stuck" he mumbled, giving you his puppy eyes. You giggled, shaking your head as you move to help him. You reach for the top of his jacket, having to stand on your tiptoes, and slide it off his shoulders and down his arms. You look back up at him and as you do you are shocked by what you see.

There's no humor in his eyes, his face is completely serious as he stares down into your eyes. You have to look away as butterflies fill your stomach. You throw his discarded jacket onto the chair.

"Can you manage now?" You ask, looking at his face but not meeting his eyes. His head shakes and you swallow a lump in your throat as you close your eyes and try to ground yourself and keep repeating in your head 'he's drunk, this means nothing… this means nothing.'

He pulls at his plaid shirt and sadly whispers "buttons", you nod before opening your eyes. You try to focus on the buttons, not Sam, as your hands begin to tremble. Taking a deep breath, you begin to undo the shirt, knowing he is watching your every move; each button revealing more and more skin and muscle beneath. You had seen him shirtless before, Sam wasn't shy of his body, and with a body like his, why should he be? But this is different, you knew this would lead to many a frustrating dream.

As you finish you try not to stare at his perfect abs, your hands itching to tough them. You look up and move to slide the shirt off completely. You see Sam swallow heavily, causing you to frown slightly, Sam wasn't usually this bashful when drunk. You shake of the odd feeling, returning to the task.

Goosebumps appear on your arms as your hands slide against the soft skin of his arms, you try to memorize every inch of skin, every hard muscle, as you know this will probably be the only time you get to touch him like this. The shirt thrown with the forgotten jacket, you ask him if he wanted a t-shirt to sleep in. He shakes his head and you can't be disappointed by his decision. You move to grab your pajamas out of you bag as he removes his pants unaided. He jumps onto the bed, looking at you and opening his arms in an invitation to join him.

"No Sammy, go to sleep." You say laughing, looking at him lying there. In nothing but his boxers. 'I must be fucking crazy to turn that down,' you shake the thought from your head.

Sam frowns and says "cuddle," his arms still wide. You decide to go easy on him, he looked so cute.

"You're a big guy Sammy, and you're not getting both of us in that little bed." He throws his arms down, sighing dramatically. "I'll be right there" you say, pointing to the other bed. He nods, though he's still unhappy. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" you tell him.

"Okay…" he mumbles as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.


	3. Chapter 3

You breathe heavily as you try to calm yourself. The man you are head-over-heels in love with is lying almost naked, drunk as anything, in the next room. Not even five minutes ago he was kissing your neck and you can't deal with it. You splash water on your face trying to get your thoughts back to normal, at least enough so you can face him again. You think you hear a noise, but dismiss it. You change into your pajamas, regretting your decision of boy shorts and a tank top, now that you're sharing a room with Sam. You hear the noise again.

"Sam?" You ask to the door, but get no reply. You rush to finish dressing when you hear it again, this time accompanied with a grunt. You throw the door open, discarded clothes forgotten as you dash back into the room.

You see Sam lying on the bed innocently under the covers… on the bed that no appears to be double the size… You sigh, closing your eyes. He'd pulled your bed to his…

"Sam…" you begin, but you're cut off.

"More room!" He says so brightly you can't help but smile at him. 'Oh the hell with it, a hug won't kill you' you say to yourself.

You climb onto the bed on your side and lie down, but you aren't there long as Sam's arm grips your waist and effortlessly pulls you toward him. Your hands land on his chest and you feel the muscle flutter beneath your fingers. You have to swallow a lump in your throat as you close your eyes, unable to look at him. Feeling movement, you dare to open your eyes, only for your vision to be filled with those gorgeous hazel pools.

Sam moved in nuzzling his nose against yours, before moving to kiss your cheek, so lightly that you're not sure if it had really happened. Until he did it again, and again, moving lower each time until he once again reached your neck.

Your breathing became shallow as his hand ran down the length of your back, over your ass, giving it a little squeeze that made you whimper, down the back of your thigh to your knee where he pulled your leg over his hip. He ground his hips into you, rubbing his hard bulge against your core, causing you to gasp and pull away.

"Sam, no, you're drunk. This isn't right." You say, trying to untangle yourself from him.

" 'm not drunk." He breathed out, kissing up your jaw.

"Sam, yes you are…" you say, pushing against his chest half-heartedly. You wanted this, wanted him, but not while he was drunk. It's not fair to either of you.

He sighs deeply, grabs your chin lightly, looking you dead in the eye. "Y/N, do I sound drunk to you?"

You frown for two reasons. Firstly at the completely coherent sentence that just left his mouth, after you'd heard nothing but one words and giggles for the last hour. And secondly, if he wasn't drunk then what the hell?

"I can smell the booze on your breath Sam." He shakes his head, raising his index finger.

"One beer. I know I'm a lightweight compared to you and Dean, but it does take more than one beer to get me drunk." Your frown doesn't ease. You sit up on your knees, new information running around your head.

"Then what the hell Sam?!" You say, getting a little mad that he'd played you like this. He sits up to join you.

"The only time I ever get to be with you like this is when I'm drunk, and I don't get to remember most of it. I really like you Y/N, I just wanted…"

"You didn't think to just tell me you liked me? What made you think that I'd let anything happen while you were drunk? Is that how little you think of me?" You ask quietly.

Sam raised his hands to your face, "No! God Y/N no! I never meant to let things get this far, but feeling your hands on me, the look in your eyes… I couldn't believe you were looking at me that way, and I just… I didn't want to stop." He lowered his head and dropped his hands from your face.

You raised your hand to stroke his hair. "I like you too… a lot…" you smile at him as he raises his head to smile at you. "Just never pull a stunt like that again!"

"I promise to never, EVER listen to my brother again." He said, stroking your cheek.

"DEAN!?"


End file.
